


A Wolf Alone

by FlitShadowflame



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Bestiality, Biting, Breeding, Emotional Manipulation, Fade Sex, Fade Shenanigans, Knotting, M/M, Marking, Zeus-level bestiality and rape, does it count if it's a god in animal form?, no fade tongue though, wolf mouths don't french kiss well jus' sayin, you can take the 'Vint out of Tevinter but you can't make him trust people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-11 10:01:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4430996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlitShadowflame/pseuds/FlitShadowflame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fen'Harel may be a shell of his former self, but that doesn't mean he'll tolerate disrespect, not from some jumped-up shemlen mage.</p><p>He decides to educate the boy, show him he has no business questioning gods.</p><p>(for a <a href="http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/13890.html?thread=56641346#t56641346">kink meme prompt</a>)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Wolf Alone

When Lavellan swore by the Dread Wolf twice within five minutes, Dorian finally gave up on pretending not to be curious.

"My dear Inquisitor, perhaps you could tell me why the wolf is so dreadful?" he asked, aiming for flippant and missing by inches.

"He imprisoned our gods," Lavellan said tersely.

"Yet you'd sic him on your enemies like a trained mabari?" he asked. Solas made a choked noise.

"I think it's more like throwing meat at a starving bear. You hope it takes the easy meal so you can run," Lavellan shrugged.

"Why the sudden interest?" Solas questioned.

"Hm? Oh, just idle curiosity. Tevinter has desert wolves; wild, vicious things - but they hunt in packs. On their own, they're cowards, picking over carrion mostly. It just strikes me as odd, that Fen'Harel is always depicted as a wolf alone."

Dorian did not see Solas' eyes narrow, nor did he realize who and what he had just offended.

Naturally, it was in dreams that the Dread Wolf struck. It was almost too easy to subdue Dorian, given how weak and weary the mage had allowed himself to become. Fen'Harel only had to pounce, slamming Dorian into the ground, and all the squirming in the world couldn't have saved his victim.

"Do you know why a wolf would hunt alone?" Fen'Harel asked, and Dorian didn't question how the great beast could speak, just wished his breath was less fetid.

"No?" Fen'Harel prompted. "A wolf leaves his pack to find his mate, form a new pack from their cubs." He sniffed, then licked, Dorian's neck. "You're attractive enough, for a shemlen that is. Ours would be very pretty cubs, no? Dark-skinned and point-eared."

"Madness," Dorian gasped out as Fen'Harel's teeth gently grazed his throat. Gently, with the obvious threat of violence.

"With enough magic, near anything is possible, boy," Fen'Harel smirked. "And magic I have aplenty."

"Pick someone else you sick - Fuck!" Dorian screamed. Fen'Harel's claws stopped raking down his back at the noise. Or, stopped digging so deeply, at least. With a swift movement from one large paw, Dorian's torn robes were ripped away.

"I could. But you're the mortal who has disrespected me most recently. And you deserve a lesson in humility, no?"

A slick, rigid phallus thrust between the cheeks of Dorian's ass, and he realized this was not some kind of metaphorical dressing down Fen'Harel was discussing.

The slick was critical, because the god had no hands in this form to stretch Dorian with - not that he wanted to bother. Let the shem scream as loud as he liked.

The pointed tip was even more essential, as Dorian was too tense to enter otherwise. Fen'Harel pushed, slow but insistent, an inevitable force of destruction, and Dorian did scream, though not much. Then, for the first time in Ages, Fen'Harel sank his knot deep inside a warm body.

The human mage sobbed as Fen'Harel took his pleasure, quick and wild and just enough stimulation to force Dorian into arousal, not enough to get him off. One of Dorian's humiliated moans incited Fen'Harel to laughter and taunting.

"You look delicious on your knees, boy. Have you rolled over for many men in your life, Altus Pavus? I know you've thought, _dreamed_ of it, of falling to your knees and worshipping the cock of anyone who will give you even a scrap of affection. Alexius, of course, for his kindness and his tutelage. His son, for befriending you. Your own father, if only to shut him up, to show him just how much you love cock. Shake your head all you like, shem, I see your dreams as easily as I see you panting for more right now. Cullen and the Inquisitor, you would kneel for in full view of the army if they asked, all for a bit more clothes ration and a softer bed to sleep in, even if it meant sharing. You'd even roll over for that murdering filth, Blackwall, just to get him to stop wallowing for ten whole minutes. Oh, or the Iron Bull, to sate your own curiosity."

Dorian snarled, and Fen'Harel laughed again.

"Poor little Altus, ran all the way South to be himself, only to find no one wants him as he is. Now you'll bend and play nice but it's too late, they'll alwayts see the rich brat with his sneers and sarcasm, the backstabbing 'Vint. You must be aware you're only allowed to stay because of the things you know. They take in so many people here with open arms...but not if they're Tevinters. Alexius, Erimond, Servis, they all got what every southerner thinks a 'Vint deserves" a sticky end, wetting the Inquisitor's sword. When you've given all you have, how long will it take before you find the same fate?"

There were no feverish denials, because Dorian had had all these thoughts himself.

"Once that Blighted Magister is dead, I've plans to set in motion, shem. There's room for a pretty broodmare like you. Think about that, while you wait for the sword to fall. Consider your odds. I want you alive, for many years to come...can you say the same of your so-called friends?"

Fen'Harel bit into Dorian's bicep as he came, his knot swelling to seed the 'Vint.

Dorian was quiet now, trembling in fear but not daring to object, to fight or protest. Good.

He let Dorian wake when his knot receded enough to pull free.

Dorian, for his part, woke with a barely-stifled cry of pain. His arm was bleeding and his ass was suffering an agony he'd not felt since he was still a novice at sex. A distant, academic part of him was fascinated - physical experiences in the Fade should never translate to actual wounds, as one never inhabited the Fade with one's actual body.

Mostly, though, he was reeling. Had he conjured a demon or was that actually an ancient Elvhen god? Who, apparently, he'd pissed off. He supposed it was a miracle he wasn't dead or Tranquil, and then he thought sourly that such a thing likely wasn't punishment enough for a trickster god.

He told himself that the commentary had been lies, because what was Fen'Harel if not a liar and trickster? He couldn't quite make himself believe it, though, not when he recalled how scouts and soldiers would sneer and spit at him, Solas and Blackwall's dismissive attitudes, all the rest...all Mother Giselle's transparent efforts to have him removed, to bully him into leaving. Sometimes he felt like Varric and Bull were the only people actually interested in him rather than automatically repulsed, but then Bull would say something insensitive about mages, or 'Vints, or both, and Varric would agree. Or he'd see Varric's perfectly friendly facade with someone drop the instant their back was turned, and wonder if the dwarf faked his amiability around Dorian, too.

Dorian curled up in his bedroll and wished he could have been the son his parents wanted.

**Author's Note:**

> From the prompt: 
> 
> Dorian makes a remark that Fen'Harel doesn't sound so terrifying. Solas decides to teach him other wise by visiting in a dream and fucking Dorian into submission in wolf form. Massive trash heap bonus if he taunts Dorian when he's done and acts like a haughty git. If he happens to have his way with Dorian while in his Elven form then I'll give you my soul baked into delicious cookies.


End file.
